Legacy of the Bat Part 2: Memoriam
by ZaraValinor
Summary: Picking up several weeks after Commencement. Terry finds himself meeting Batman's old partner.
1. Prologue

Crime Alley was perhaps the only part of Gotham City that had not been changed by the advancement of technology. In the day light, it wasn't the haunted memory that had lived with Bruce Wayne since he'd been an eight-year-old boy, coming from a theater with his mother and father.

No, today, with the sun streaking down like heavenly fingers, the street nor the ramshackle and rundown buildings surrounding it, looked like the impoverished, hell hole that had spurred a child to shuck of the innocence of youth and mold himself into a weapon against injustice. No, that picture had spread like ink to darken the other streets of Gotham City, leaving Crime Alley nothing more then a ghost of a memory.

Bruce had fought harshly and unmoving against its destruction. And had won. Crime Alley would stand untouched as long as he lived, a quiet reminder of what had been. A quiet reminder of why Gotham needed Batman.

Palm open, Bruce turned his right hand to Terry McGinnis, his assistant, and most importantly, the current Batman, and Terry placed two red roses into his hands, thorns and all. Something beautiful always came with its pains.

Leaning down, the bones in his back, that even his incredible strength couldn't quite keep from deteriorating, groaning in protest every inch of the way. He cursed the cage that age had put him into. Secretly, he knew, Terry cursed it too.

They'd been careful not to say it, but the tragedy at the Gotham Hall was something that words could not speak more eloquently between them. But they were as loud and palpable as a fall wind. What if? What if age had not robbed Bruce of his vitality, would those boy's parents still have died?

It was pointless of course. Barriers of time rarely melted away, becoming merged. Gotham as he'd protected it was not the same as the Gotham that Terry watched over. Regrets did little for the world, but Bruce shouldered a world's worth.

And now his young protégé, his predecessor was weighed by his own.

"I'll warm up the car," Terry broke into his reverie. "Come on, mutt," he called to Ace, their constant companion.

Ace looked up at Bruce with an intelligent glint in his eyes and the old man gave him a terse nod. The dog began to trot after the twenty-two year old Batman when he stopped suddenly sniffing the air around him.

"Ace?" Bruce asked.

The long pointed black snout, continued its survey of the air. Then it let out a sharp bark.

From out of sight a snicker was heard.

"Ace!" Terry commanded, pointing a finger at Bruce. "Protect." The fighting dog, instantly took position in front of his master, his lips drawn back to show sharp, dagger like teeth.

After Terry had recovered from his own injuries, he'd been hellbent in finding every way possible to protect Bruce. Aside from intensive training with Ace, he'd also rigged Bruce's chair to carry a number of batarangs and an electric current that Bruce could switch on if any came to threaten him.

"I didn't quiet believe it," the voice followed the snicker, a light baritone that despite the amusement, managed to sound tired and wary. "I mean who would have guessed it. Bruce Wayne in a wheelchair."

Terry's stance went into a guard position and his hand moved deceptively casual towards his belt. The young Batman was more heavily armed then he'd ever been before. The knowledge that Penumbra was still out there with no shroud of secrecy protecting Terry or Bruce, had spurred the boy to greater measures.

But this was no enemy.

"What are you doing here?" he asked, not needing the figure standing in the shadows to step into the sunlight to shed illumination.

"Geez, Bruce, you really don't change do you?" the voice continued, a sense of a head wagging back and forth in its tone. "Can't you pretend to be a little glad to see me."

"What are you doing here?" Bruce repeated, as hard as before.

Terry was watching him out of the corner of his eye, gauging him with that innate understanding he'd had of Bruce since the moment they'd met. He knew that occasionally he frustrated the boy, but where all his other protégé's had been unable to put up with it, Terry seemed to take all of it in stride.

Eventually, the figure stepped out of the shadows. He was younger then Bruce by at least twenty years, his hair still contained threads of his once lustrous black hair. Dressed in a fashion similar to Terry, Dick Grayson looked younger than his years. Still, he had aged since the last time Bruce had seen him.

The last time had been a few months before Terry had stolen the suit. It had gone as well as many of the other encounters since that night when Dick had managed to get a punch under his guard.

"Who is this dreg?" Terry asked, his voice deepening unconsciously.

"Wow, do you know how unthreatening you are right now?" Dick replied, eyeing the boy with disdain and his usual forced amusement.

Terry's handsome features hardened. "Maybe you want a demonstration."

"Any day, junior," Dick assured, holding his ground.

The young Batman took a step forward and would have gladly taken a punch at Dick, but Bruce stopped him with his cane. "That won't get us an answer. Dick?"

"Ah, Dick," Terry said and made it into an insult without much effort.

"I go by Richard now," Bruce's old partner said, giving a pull on his jacket for emphasis.

"Not what I meant," Terry replied.

Bruce looked between his former partner and his current partner and sighed. He really didn't need this right now. "Richard," Bruce said. "Answer my question."

"What is it ever?" he asked, giving Terry one more disdainful glare. "Blüdhaven's problems are leaking in on Gotham and instead of like last time, I've come to ask permission to play in your sandbox. And well...," he gestured vaguely at Bruce and the two red roses lying on the sidewalk. "I know your schedule."

"Is that it?" Bruce asked.

Dick's blue eyes turned to him, nearly as piercing as his own. There was something bubbling under that anger, a sadness that Bruce knew he was more than partially responsible for. His ward, his all but son, wanted him to say something else, to do something that Bruce could never quite guess at.

"Yeah, that's it."

"Good."

He motioned for Terry and automatically, the boy took Ace's lead. He never believed it possible, but he actually missed McGinnis' more rebellious side. There was only room for one grumpy, old man at the manor, and Bruce had already claimed that position.

"I don't want your boy messing up my investigation," Dick called to their backs as Bruce urged his chair forward.

Terry paused as he opened the door to the car. "Just as long as the bird keeps out of the way of the bat." He grabbed Bruce's arm and helped him into the car. Dick watched the easy way that Bruce accepted Terry's help and his eyes narrowed to slits. "Catch you later, dick."


	2. Chapter 1

Dick didn't scowl, that was saved for old men who spent far too much of their time in dank caverns, but his expression was decidedly pinched with worry watching Bruce being carted off by the new kid. He hadn't lied when he'd told the old man that Blüdhaven's problems were leaking into Gotham, he just neglected to mention that this case had a personal note to it.

He wondered how long he could work in Gotham before Bruce and his latest reincarnation made this delicate situation, even more precarious. He knew that Bruce would be Bruce, he was steadfast as the rising and setting of the moon. But this new kid, McGinnis, he was an unknown in Dick's world, no matter how much Bruce trusted him.

McGinnis had a record, it was easy enough to learn with a little snooping. Petty robbery, something that landed him three months in Juvenile Hall. He'd been connected to smaller stuff before that, vandalism, fighting. He'd been an unhappy child in the midst of his parents divorce.

Still, besides his father's murder, he wasn't the type of kid Bruce usual tapped fro his crusade.

With a shake of his head, he flung a leg over his hoverbike.

He still had one more person to talk with before he got to work.

hr

"Hey, Sam," Dick greeted, shaking the hand offered to him.

"Richard," Sam Young boomed, pumping his hand enthusiastically. "Pleasure to see you. Won't you come in?"

For a moment, Dick blinked in confusion. Sam was quite different from anyone he'd ever met. He was openly jovial and friendly, and carried optimism like a torch through this city. The broad smile on his dark, distinguished face was completely genuine. He was very different from Bruce and if Dick was honest, different from himself. Probably why Barbara married him.

"Thanks," he said, breaking the threshold. "Barb in?"

"Yes. I'll go get her," Sam said.

He disappeared down a hall leading out of the front room, leaving Dick alone in a mass of memories that he had no place in. Pictures ringed the room, of Barbara, Sam and their family. Sam had a daughter with his late wife, Alina, who lived in Metropolis working as a Public Relations officer, and then there was James, who had Sam's dark handsome features and Barbara's smile.

It all could have been his, but he'd left it behind, like so many other things, when he'd stopped being Robin and went to Blüdhaven to start his own life.

He was a relic of the past, a ghost caught in a time line he had no right to be in. \

"Dick," Barbara's voice interrupted his reverie.

She was dressed simply, brown slacks, black shirt, laser gun and holster slung over her shoulders. Over a pair of glasses, her blue eyes still regarded him with warm mirth, dispelling the yellowing bruise over one eye.

"Hey gorgeous," he greeted her with a crooked smile.

She shot him that grin that used to lead to him either getting slapped up side the head or kissed. Neither happened. She just rolled her eyes.

"It's been a long time, Dick."

"Yeah."

Succinct words to mask what was left unsaid in the spaces between. The type of communication that didn't need words.

'Missed you.'

'Glad your safe.'

Silence followed, each waiting for the other to break it.

"What brings you to Gotham?" she asked.

"Business," Dick answered. "I'm going to be in town for a while. And since I'm out of jurisdiction, I'm going to need your help."

"What do you need?"

"Information, mainly. I haven't played in these parts for a long time. I'm looking for a gang. They'd be new to Gotham, call themselves the Leather Wings."

Barbara's face wrinkled in concentration. "Haven't heard of them. I'll get my people on it. What have you got for me?"

From his jacket pocket, Dick pulled out a datadisc, tossed it at Barbara. "Has everything I was able to get on them from Blüdhaven. Couple names, cash card IDs, basic run down."

She caught it deftly, looked at it with a sharp eye. "Okay. One more thing. You talk to Bruce?"

Dick gave a tight grin, slumped into an arm chair and tossed one let over the other. "We exchanged pleasantries. Even met the new kid. He's like the mutt, all teeth at me, but simpering at Bruce's command."

"He's pretty protective of Bruce," she said.

"Yeah, really? Hadn't noticed," Dick replied with feigned innocence. "I'd thought he'd given up on brainwashing innocent kids."

"Terry pulled him out of retirement, got him to take an interest in life. He has full control of Wayne Enterprises now," Barbara informed him.

"Terry, is it?" Dick sneered.

"A lot of things have changed since you were last in Gotham."

He shook his head. "Doesn't sound all that different. Batman trouncing criminals and Commissioner Gordon making allowances. In fact its right out of the past."

"Listen to me, Dick. You and Bruce can go ahead and have your usual pissing contest, but don't bring Terry into this. The kid's had a rough time of late and I won't have him stuck in between your and Bruce's personal war."

"If I didn't know better, I'd say you liked this kid," Dick said leadingly.

"I do," she agreed.

Dick clapped his hands onto his knees, pushed himself to his feet. "I'll play nice. With any luck, we won't have to run into each other."

"I hope you don't. McGinnis is supposed to be hanging up the suite. Batman's no more."

There's something in her voice, the way the McGinnis' deep blue eyes burned with azure flame, that told him otherwise. "You don't believe that."

"Not really," she admitted. "But even after all these years, I can hope."

He knew some of it. That a new dreg had made his appearance in the crime scene, had disrupted the Gotham University graduation ceremony. That half of Barbara's force was now being questioned for their affiliation with Penumbra. This Penumbra had been responsible for putting Bruce in a hoverchair and the bruise on Barbara's forehead. Batman had come in, beating back the crooked cops under Penumbra's payroll, but hadn't been seen since.

Dick had half expected Gotham to be overrun and for a few days he worried that the new Batman had actually been killed, but someone was still beating the streets. Either McGinnis was being more discreet or he wasn't putting on the suit. Either way, the Knight of tomorrow still protected Gotham in his shadow.

"It's bad, isn't it?"

"Both have been unmasked," Barbara answered, pulling her glasses off and rubbing the space between her eyes. "Whoever Penumbra is, he's making it personal, like he has a vendetta against Batman."

"How much of this does Sam know?"

"Very little. He knows I used to masquerade in tights, but beyond that, he's in the dark. Safer that way. And he knows not to come in until I've come and got him."

He wondered how Barb did it. With two failed marriages behind him, he hadn't found the right balance between his work and his family life. Of course they came from two different families. Bruce had been a strange combination of father, older brother, and drill sargent, the first two often sacrificed to the last. But Barbara had been gifted a father, who was only occasionally ally in her night work. She'd seen how it was done.

There were a thousand more questions he wanted to ask, old instincts never died, but with Barbara answers were quid pro quo. Whatever he got about Bruce and McGinnis, she'd give that much about him to them. And he wanted them as far away from this as possible. This was his case.

"I better go," he said, stepping to his feet. "Still need to check into my hotel. I'll check back later tonight."

He walked over to her, felt the awkward moment before they allowed themselves a hug. "Too bad you didn't bring John, I haven't seen him in years. He's got to be sixteen now."

"Seventeen. Hopefully, I can bring him by next time."

"I'm glad you came," Barbara said, leading him to the door. "It'll be like old times."


	3. Chapter 2

Standing in the batcave, a ring of candles around him, the Knight of Tomorrow looked to Bruce to the candles, and then back again.

"This reminds me of camp as a kid," Terry quipped. "You wanna hold hands, sing Kum by Yah?"

Sitting with his back to the large computer, Bruce cocked an eyebrow and shot McGinnis his usual bored/annoyed expression.

The day after Terry's graduation he'd grabbed a bag of things from home and had made himself a room in the mansion, not even bothering to consult Bruce. He'd called Superman, cashed a favor that had never really been billed, Mary and Matt McGinnis had a constant, invisible guard. He had surveillance on Max and Dana, Max knowingly, Dana once more oblivious. Everyone who had even the loosest connection to Bruce and Terry or Batman had been warned or protected.

Bruce chaffed at the idea that Terry felt he needed the most protection. Even in this damnable chair, he was not helpless. He'd been blinded, drugged, and endured a number of other physical tortures.

But he kept quiet. A part of him that missed Alfred, Dick and Tim as boys, told him he liked the company.

"It's training," Bruce answered, the young man's veiled question.

Immediately, the jocular light in Terry's cobalt eyes froze, turned hard like steel. "Let's get started."

"You have a lot of power behind your hits," Bruce shifted gears to teacher. "But you're sloppy in your application. You need to center that energy into one fluid motion."

Three weeks ago, Terry would have made a quip in counter to Bruce's assessment, now he just nodded, that cool determination never wavering.

"Uh huh, and the candles?"

"You're going to blow them out, McGinnis."

Picking up his abandoned cane, Bruce navigated his chair next to the line of flickering flames. As if the wooden cane was an extension of his arm, he thrusted it out at one particular candle as quick as a blink of an eye. The light was abruptly snuffed out.

Terry glanced at him in that familiar half amused, half awed expression.

For the next couple hours, Bruce watched him work at controlling his energy, making corrections as the boy worked. Terry was indeed a fast learner, he'd moved past the need for teenage difficulty once he'd started attending Gotham University, which had allowed his ferocious intelligence to take over.

"Straighter, more power," he snapped, as Terry's last bunch started to show the fatigue of his still healing laser wound.

The boy corrected his posture, cocked back his fist and thrust it down. The candle snuffed out with a whisper of air. There was no wait for a word of praise, Terry spun on his left heel and kicked out with his right. A line of three flames winked out.

"You're bleeding, McGinnis," Bruce growled, when he spotted the red spot on the boys right shoulder.

"I keep pulling the Commish's stitches." He put a hand over the crimson blot. "Nothing to worry about."

"You should have that looked at."

"Awkward questions," Terry put it off with a wave of his hand.

The young Batman kicked out again, dousing one more light and Bruce fell into maudlin musings. Back in his day, he had a trusted doctor to see to his medical needs. When he'd gone blind, Batman and Bruce Wayne could be seen by Dr. Leslie Tompkins without any reservations. Bruce couldn't say he could trust any doctor with Terry's condition. He'd cleaned up a lot of the gangs and organized crime, but Gotham would always be a den of thieves, a den Bruce didn't know as well as he used to.

Maybe Dana?

No. Even if Bruce wanted to bring in a civilian, Terry would more likely allow himself to die of infection than bring his girlfriend into his night life. For now, Bruce would keep a watchful eye.

A lot harder now that Terry went out on his own, no radio signal keeping them in touch, only calling when he thought he had something.

Bruce hated not being there, even if it was just through a vidlink, hated not knowing what was going on in his city.

Hated not knowing what could happen to Terry next.

Penumbra had managed to wake inside of him the past of his parents death and mix it with the fear of his legacy. Terry was Batman, donning the suit in his own way, but living up to the name and the creed Bruce had created. For first time in Bruce's life, his love for Gotham had competition that could not be placed aside.

Dick, Tim, even Barbara, he could and had successfully pushed aside when evil opened its jagged jaws to swallow them. Batman was always there to keep watch over the city. But protecting Terry, meant leaving Gotham vulnerable.

He cringed at his choices.

But he knew the choice was in Terry's hand and that he loved Gotham just as much as Bruce did.

It was fifteen minutes more before Terry darkened the circles of flames. When he finished he grabbed a towel, blotted his face before throwing it behind his neck. "Do you need me at this thing tonight?"

'This thing' was a dinner between himself and the CEO of Foxtecha. Terry usually acted the part of his assistant, sat beside him, looked bored and vacant, and drove him home. Now that the young man had graduated, Bruce had been willing to give him a more active role in the company, if Terry would finally relent in this area.

"Not necessarily. Why?"

"I want to patrol early, check up on Grayson."

Bruce quirked a brow. "And what are you expecting to find?"

Terry shrugged. "Anything. Nothing. I just get twitchy when one of your Robins flutter into my nest."

"You know, Dick will blame me for your investigating."

"I'm pretty sure you can handle it. But I'm not looking to get caught. I'll stay out of sight, I just want to know what he's up to." Terry opened his mouth to continue when an alarm sounded in the batcave.

Bruce swivelled around to look at his screen.

"Who is it?" Terry asked, running up beside him.

"Max."

"See if you can call her, I'm on my way to her apartment."

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Terry skidded his bike to a halt outside of Max's building, leapt off and hit the ground at a full run. Thankfully, her apartment was close to the street and it wasn't a long run to her door. He tried her door, but it didn't open. With a grunt, he pounded against it, calling out Max's name.

With a grunt, he pushed away from the door, reared back, ready to break the door open. And fell right through it as Max opened it. She stood over him, a hand on her hip, a sly smile on her full lips.

"Took you long enough, McGinnis."

"Max!" he gasped. "You're okay?"

"You really are a detective."

His relief was quickly replaced by annoyance. He shot her a glare that would have made Bruce proud. "Why'd your tracker go off?"

"Wanted to talk to you, Ter," she said, snatching his hand and helping him to his feet. "No one's been able to get a hold of you in days. Me, Dana, and your Mom, we were worried. And since I am the only one who knows that you've got us watched, I pulled the switch."

Terry brushed his hands against his pants. "Geez, Max. I don't have time for this."

"Do I have to be tied up somewhere, nearly turned into a lizard queen to get a moment of your time?" she demanded, her arms crossing over her chest.

"Max, you don't understand."

"Don't I?" she paused, taking several long breaths. "After the graduation, I had to hear from the old man that you were okay. The next day you come by here and bug the place, then just as fast you're gone. So stop slammin' me and tell me what's going on."

"A kid's parents died, Max. On my watch. So right now, I am busy. I'm training. I'm making sure that it doesn't happen again. So I can't go catch a slice with you or take Dana to the movies or make fun with my twip brother. And I don't like it, but I hated seeing that kid's face. And I refuse to see it again."

The silence was inexorable before she spoke. "I can help. Let us help you."

"No, not this time, Max. Bruce and I are dangerous people to be around right now. This dreg, he's making it personal." He sighed, running a hand through his raven locks. "No more kid gloves."

"So that's it then."

Terry nodded. "That's it."

"I don't like this, Ter. This isn't you." She reached out a hand and rested it on his shoulder. "I'm worried about you. We all are."

"Don't."

"It's not that simple, McGinnis," she continued stubbornly, her voice and eyes vying to see which could be the hardest.

He too her hand in his, pulling it away from his shoulder. "Don't call me unless it's a real emergency. I need time, Max. I gotta have time."


End file.
